undergrounds | [OPEN] SOUTHWARK TERRITORY CLAIM

Jean-Claude calmly and casually makes his way up Lancelot's front walkway to stand on the front porch of his flat. He has a box in hand, a small gift for the other man. He casually wonders whether he's even touched the last gift he had given him, but he supposes if he'd kept it then he can at least accessorize properly. And if not, then so too can whoever had ended up with the treasures besides. Though honestly it would be a waste. Everything from the suit to the color of the stone on these cufflinks he had chosen specifically with Lancelot in mind.

Upon reaching his front step, Jean-Claude casually rings the bell. He'd like to talk, if he could. Despite his fun with gifts, there is business to attend to. He is sorry for the things that were done with him. He knows that being a vampire, knowing him, showing up on his step like this, it will make him automatically suspicious. He would like to think that they are still allies, in some manner of the word. Though he has to say, he's enjoying the way he has managed to work his way under the other man's skin.

Jean-Claude has made the arrangements for the pair of them to meet again. He must say, it took some work, tracking down a way of contacting the other man. But the fae are not all immune to his charms and he is not asking for much. Simply for a message to be passed along. He is looking for the Lord of Autumn. And he would meet with him at his club, if there is the time for it. (He passes out a handful of business cards, just in case there is any doubt who he is or where he works).

And then he waits. That is the problem with such indirect methods of communication after all, without a call from the man himself Jean-Claude must simply rely on the thought that someone should pass the message on. And with Islington at the standing that it is... He supposes he's lucky they hadn't shot him on sight, really. He sits at the edge of the bar and swirls his wine in his glass, surveying the crowd for the evening. The liquid having remained untouched the whole evening.

The pieces are in motion. Jean-Claude knows that he has sat idle long enough. Evie will speak with Hillingdon if she can, to attempt to if not earn their favor then at least their pardon. And while Eames might not represent the entirety of the fae, they seem to have struck something of a deal between them as well. The last piece in the puzzle that remains is Sylvia Redbright, and the people she speaks for. Jean-Claude knows that they'll never have a chance winning her over, not while Raymond is in power. So he stops trying. Sometimes drastic times call for drastic measures.

So he sends out an alert, through the grape vine, through word of mouth, trusting only those closest to him and his cause with the news and the opportunity to spread it. They are to try again for Southwark. This time, there is to be no duel. Come what may, they will have their victory. (He needs it, if he is to win favor with Harris. Favor that he desperately needs if he wants any chance of usurping him...)

Anyone who has questions may come and direct them to Jean-Claude himself. And for the rest? Prepare for that Saturday night of the weekend to come.

Edited 2016-10-10 22:51 (UTC)

They strike in the dead of the night. Jean-Claude was strategic this time -- he is not looking to make a display, after all, he is looking to win. And while Lancelot may have known that they are planning something, he had not know when, or where, or how. By the dawn of the next day, Jean-Claude has infested the territory with vampires and turned what witches who had settled in the few months they had claimed the territory out into the streets beyond. No doubt it still is not the victory that Harris would have liked, but it is a victory nonetheless, and it should earn his favor. Overall, Jean-Claude is pleased about it.

Pleased enough that he decides a celebration is in order. No one has died. Almost no blood has been spilt. Jean-Claude clasps his hands together, gathering the attention of all there gathered and makes a decision on the spot.

"With dawn approaching, many of you must go to ground in a few hours. But tonight is ours! Let us celebrate this victory together! Let us gather together tonight at sundown at the Angelo!" He realizes that volunteering Cesare's establishment without his consent is possibly less than ideal, but he can hardly hold such an affair at Guilty Pleasures. He does know when an action might be in poor taste after all. He will just hope that the other vampire can understand his reasoning and be accommodating. If not, he will have a lot of grumpy vampires on his hands.

He will handle that later though, for now he is there to approach for conversation, in case there is anything to address that might be better said sooner rather than later.

Jean-Claude has at least had the decency to call ahead this time before dropping by, which is hardly as much as he offered Lancelot. Of course, Jean-Claude has a feeling that Lancelot will forgive him more than Cesare might for such a fault, and while the other man just might be cross, Cesare could actually pose a threat should he upset him.

He needs to speak with him though. Firstly about the immediate matter of the club. Secondly, and less immediately, he needs to feel out his stance on Raymond Harris. He knows that the other vampire has supported their leader, but he hardly believes that was done out of loyalty to Harris himself. From their previous acquaintances, Jean-Claude knows full well that Cesare's only loyalties are to himself. And that's what troubles him. He needs to reassure himself that he will not be at threat from the other vampire, should he make a move on Harris, for Cesare is one of the sole powerful vampires in the city who remains a political mystery to him. And he needs to move him out of the way if that is so.

Stepping into the front lobby of the Angelo, Jean-Claude glances around warily. It has been a long night, and it will be an even longer day with another long night to follow, though he does not let his exhaustion show. He cannot afford such a weakness. "Mon ami, are you there?" he calls out.

He has managed to weasel the space out of Cesare one way or the other -- perhaps with promises of grandeur, perhaps with a rather large check written discretely on the side. Regardless he has managed to procure their gathering a private room. Unlike Raymond's gathering before, there will be no public feeding at this party. Though Jean-Claude does not discourage feeding itself. He merely wants to be respectful of Cesare's bar and the fact that the better part of it is still open to the public on such a night as this.

Guests are welcome, of course. Those who had not participated in the siege, accompanying a vampire who had done so or not. He does however have one of his Guilty Pleasures bouncers (called in from his night off) staged discretely by the door to let them in as they come. And to see any saboteurs off before they may ruin this gathering.

For that is what it is, of course. A gathering of minds. Probably the first of its kind, all of Jean-Claude's supporters all together, all of those carefully collected and gathered at his side to stand strong against Raymond Harris. The first time they are gathered together themselves without a battle in the midst. They are able to speak as freely as they might ever do in such a public place with so many people. There are drinks at their own private bar, and other refreshments if they so desire but they are vampires for the most part so of course the selections are rather sparse.

The message overall however is clear. Tonight, we celebrate who we are. We celebrate our unity. For the time when we must take a stand is fast approaching and who knows what the future may bring. So let us enjoy ourselves while we are able.

Jean-Claude, for his part, has claimed a standing table on the edge of the room and is nursing a glass of deep red wine that is more for the aesthetic than anything else. He is dressed tonight in his usual leather pants and thigh-high boots, white linen shirt with laced collar and cuffs left mostly open to expose the smooth, pale line of his chest. Accompanied by a sapphire blue overcoat, tonight. To accentuate his eyes. His hair is immaculate as always, in luxuriant curls draping about his face and shoulders. He looks every bit the perfect portrait that he desires. It is only those who know him that might see the strain here and there, in the flash of his eye, in the set of his shoulders -- a little too straight and posed to be natural. It is too bad that there are probably few who would be able to pick that out these days.

When Jean-Claude has finished his brief speech, Evie is there to take his hand, to lead him to the side to speak with him.

"Congratulations on what surely has to be the least amount of blood-shed for a vampire take-over that London has ever seen." She's proud, really, and she wants to make that extremely clear before she points out the next thing that immediately popped into her head.

"The Anglo? Do you think that's so wise, to announce a party at Borgia's?" Her relationship with Cesare was complicated, but most often the two held each other in mutual respect. "Unless this is something I don't know about...?" Do you have an alliance with Cesare Borgia, JC? Tell her immediately, she needs to add more signs and strings up in her flat.

It takes a few moments of Jean-Claude waiting in the lobby before the staff usher him over. They lead him through long corridors, past a shy looking girl with a bandage on her neck walking in the opposite direction, and eventually to a private lounge. In fact, it's less of a lounge. More of a parlor room than anything. Cesare is there, his back to the door and his hands on the drinks cabinet.

He's well dressed. Mostly anyway. His pressed shirt is unbuttoned down to his collarbones and his sleeves are rolled up. His jacket was discarded long ago.

Normally he would meet someone out in the open, or in his office, but he has a feeling that they won't be talking about things that should be overheard and his office is small. Meeting Jean-Claude in his parlor is half friendship, half power move.

He turns to Jean-Claude only slightly to acknowledge his presence as he pours out two glasses of scotch.

"Jean-Claude. How are you faring?"

He walks over to him and holds out one of the drinks in his hands.

Jean-Claude can appreciate the other man's discretion, and the gesture of the pair of them meeting under less businesslike circumstances than they might. He trails his way into the parlor, glancing at the glass of scotch poured out to him before taking it as it is offered. It's only polite, after all. He is here to test the waters of the other man's loyalties, after all. The least he can do is accept his offering of drink.

"Well enough," he replies. He curls elegant pale fingers around his glass, swirling the liquid slightly though not yet taking a sip, watching it move for a moment before glancing back up to Cesare himself. "We have won back Southwark for Islington. It is actually part of the reason I am here. I was wondering if you might have a room you could let out for a small night of revelry tonight, on such a short notice as this."

Jean-Claude lets himself be led aside. He trusts Evie enough to know that she is not about to knife him in the back following such a victory. And it is an odd thing, for him to find much trust in anyone. He cocks his head to the side at her as he listens to her speak before sighing slightly as she finishes.

"Cesare and myself, we have... A history," Jean-Claude explains. The sort of history where the other vampire had shared his bed for a time, before he had determined that he could not give him what he wanted, or perhaps that he was not what he wanted. Jean-Claude cannot say for certain. They were not exactly close, and though it hurt to see him go, it was no great heartbreak. Not like Asher...

"I know him well. Well enough to believe that, though I do not think he will ever truly be at our side, I do not think he will turn us over to Raymond Harris." He turns his gaze over the crowd of vampires slowly dispersing, lingering to mingle for as long as they dare before chased out by the light of day. "I will speak with Cesare," he reassures. "I will see what he has to say for himself in this matter." He glances back at Evie, offering her a smile that doesn't quite meet her eyes. "I cannot expect all here gathered to be comfortable with a celebration held at Guilty Pleasures, however, now can I?"

Caroline is nervous about this whole business. Part of her thinks she should stay out of it but she knows getting involved in things like this is what London vampires do.

She also knows that not a whole lot is expected of her, which for the first time in her life is a relief. She is definitely one of the youngest vampires involved with everything but that means the older ones hopefully have her back.

She just needs to figure out how to best make herself useful.

Caroline had gone past The Angelo many times now but never been inside. The interior is just as magnificent as she had dreamt it would be. It reminded her of what Klaus had said about genuine beauty, and she was glad that he'd let her take so many dresses from his still creepy trophy case of family collectibles.

She was also glad to just be here tonight. She was still new in town but she'd found other vampires that she felt she could trust. And that felt really good. So she wanders through the private room, meeting and greeting, enjoying the night because she has a feeling that nights like this might be rare.

True enough, and if Evie were to kill him, it wouldn't be in quite so public a space.

"A history," she repeats, knowing exactly what he means. He wasn't the first, nor the last to have a history with Cesare Borgia. Evie could count herself amongst them, though she didn't dwell on it. There had been swords involved.

She inclines her head. "No, you're quite right." She'd been spending more time at Guilty Pleasures than she ever previously thought she was capable of. She had gotten to know the dancers well enough to recommend Francois to Caroline for a dance. If she had to guess, she'd consider it some sort of exposure therapy. "And the Anglo is a beautiful venue." Raymond's party had been exquisite. Excessive, yes, but even she had had fun. And she preferred to stay in on her Saturday nights.

Lancelot doesn't spend a huge amount of time at home, mostly because he's busy. Which means that people very rarely drop by unexpected. He's not normally there for them to surprise.

The sound of the bell, therefore, lets him know it's probably either someone he doesn't know or Faolan. Faolan doesn't seem to have quite grasped the fact that it's better to call or text ahead, which is fine -- Lancelot enjoys his company. It is only that this makes the sound of a doorbell something he isn't immediately wary of.

Lily barks once in alert and her claws clack down the hallway toward it, and a moment later the door opens to reveal Lancelot. He's wearing a t-shirt emblazoned with the words I kissed a Samoyed and I liked it, hair a little ruffled. He clearly wasn't expecting company, and his expression goes from calm to surprised to uneasy in a matter of seconds.

"Get off my property," he instructs, and drops a hand to loop through Lily's collar.

It occurs to him that maybe he should've given Jean-Claude his number when a fae comes to him with a message requesting a meet. He'll keep that in mind for later maybe.

Right now, however, Eames turns up the same evening he gets the message. Arriving quietly without any fanfare, he leans against the bar next to Jean-Claude, eyes on the stage instead of the man next to him. He's seen Jean-Claude's face before, he doesn't think he could say the same for the current act.

"You really do have a good eye for talent, don't you?"

The words "part of the reason" are not lost on Cesare. There's more to this discussion that they're having right now. Parts of Jean-Claude's ideas have yet to unfurl and reveal themselves. They both know that.

"Anything is for sale for the right price," he replies in half jest. Of course he can oblige that request. When has he ever been the type the turn down a small night of revelry, particularly when there aren't any pressing issues at hand? Although Cesare suspects that this night is the pressing issue. Winning a territory is a big deal, particularly for Jean-Claude and his position in the nest.

"Though promise me you won't make it too small. Have a proper celebration."

Jean-Claude is pleased if a bit surprised to find Caroline there, answering his call for support. Of course, he welcomes all newcomers under his wing, especially those who would stand with him, but he had not thought that she would take quite a stance as this so soon.

"Ma chère," he says, stepping forward towards her across the floor of his club where they have been called to assemble ahead of the attack. It is not yet open for business, and there is something about being in the space with the lights on that's almost wrong, in a way. It certainly wasn't meant to be viewed like this, at least. "It is a pleasure to see you again. What brings you here?"

Jean-Claude spots her across the room and raises his drink to her in a greeting. Waiting until she has crossed over to him in response before speaking up himself.

"Your first territory dispute in the city, if memory serves?" Jean-Claude asks, tilting his head at her and offering something of a smile. "What are your impressions thus far? Is it everything you thought you had signed up to be included in?" No one had died this time, of course. Hell, no one had really even fought back. A rare occurrence indeed.

Jean-Claude quirks something of a smile at her, following her train of thought as far as Cesare is concerned. He shakes his head slightly. "It's true, it is. Which is in our favor, because I really don't have anything planned for this get-together, other than some socialization amongst ourselves. I fear I do not have the time to plan ahead as much as our dear leader had. Though perhaps that is for the best."

He quirks another smile at her. "No one will expect too much of me, all things considered."

Jean-Claude offers the other man something of a smile, although it is more subdued than the general smile that he usually offers in conversation. He knows that he's on shaky ground with the other man, even before the other man is ordering him off his front porch.

"Mon ami," Jean-Claude attempts to placate the other man, holding his hands up in front of himself in something of a defensive gesture. "Please, I have only come here to speak with you."

Jean-Claude glances over his shoulder at the act on the stage behind them and smiles. Pleased to take the compliment. "I cannot take all of the credit," he replies. "Some of them seek me out themselves. But I will not deny, I know what I like, and what I like, I am more than happy to share with my patrons."

He turns back to Eames himself. "I am pleased that you are able to join me here yourself, mon ami. I was not our little bird would pass my message along."

"Everything gets back to me sooner or later," Eames answers with something of a wry smile, looking down at Jean-Claude as he speaks before he turns his attention back to the stage. They are beautiful, as all of Jean-Claude's staff are, but the performance is also impressive.

Idly, he wonders how many patrons of the bar appreciate the stagecraft. Or how few, rather.

"You wanted to talk?"

"No, that's the beauty of these post-battle celebrations." They were her favorite- impromptu and fun, simply a good time with adrenaline highs and good friends. "I always find the most fun parties are the impromptu get-togethers. I hope tonight proves to be in the same vein."

Jean-Claude cannot help but smile wider at the other man's words, despite himself. He inclines his head slightly in acceptance of them. "I shall try, mon ami. It is certainly an event to be celebrated. Although you will forgive me, my budget is not so grand as Harris's before. And, given the nature of the attendees, I rather suspect that the gathering itself must be kept relatively... Comment dit-on? On the down low."

The reason for that of course being the second half of why he is there to speak with the other vampire, of course. But he will get to that in a moment.

"Yes." Jean-Claude nods his head slightly, turning to watch the dancers for a second longer before pushing himself to stand.

"A conversation better held in my office, alas. Though if you would care to order a drink to bring along, I will not stop you. I will even pay for your tab." He quirks the other man something of a smile that is both flirtatious and secretive all at once. "You are here as my guest, after all."

[OPEN] SOUTHWARK TERRITORY CLAIM

[CLOSED TO LANCELOT]

[CLOSED TO EAMES]

[OPEN] PLANNING FOR THE CLAIM

[OPEN] AFTERMATH OF THE CLAIM

[CLOSED TO CESARE]

[OPEN] CELEBRATING THE VICTORY

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Re: [OPEN] PLANNING FOR THE CLAIM

Re: [OPEN] CELEBRATING THE VICTORY

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